Claire LaZebnik - Knitting Under the Influence

Sam was sitting at his desk. He jumped at the sound of her voice and turned. “Jesus. Don't sneak up on me like that.”

“I knocked at the kitchen for a while and you didn't answer, so I just came in.”

“I’ve got to remember to keep that door locked.”

“You want me to go?”

He got up from his desk with a sigh. “No, now that you're here, I might as well take a break.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m supposed to stop every half hour, according to my ophthalmologist-if I stare at the computer too long, I get headaches. One of these days, she's going to admit that we're dealing with a malignant brain tumor.” He moved past her. “I could use a cup of tea. You?”

“Sure,” she said and followed him back into the kitchen.

He picked up the teakettle and carried it over to the sink. “Where have you been lately?” he said, as he ran the filtered water into it. “I haven't seen you around.”

“Hawaii. Why don't you use the insta-hot? It's faster.”

“Water that's actually boiling makes better tea.” He turned the faucet off. “What were you doing in Hawaii?”

She hesitated for a moment then said, “Breaking up with Kevin Porter.”

He set the kettle on the stove. “You picked a nice place to do it.” He turned on the burner, then moved to the cupboard and got out two cups and two saucers. He arranged them on the counter so the handles on the cups were facing in the exact same direction. “Darjeeling or Earl Grey?”

Kathleen waved her hand impatiently. “Do you really think I know the difference?”

He smiled and shook his head and plucked out two teabags from a jar on the counter.

“So,” Kathleen said, after another moment of silence, “it's ended. Me and Kevin Porter.”

“So you already said. And more grammatically. How did he take it?”

“He's fine, I think.” She hoped no one-especially not Sam-would ever find out that she had agreed to marry Kevin right before breaking up with him. Sari and Lucy knew, but they didn't count.

Sam gave her a hard look. “Are you saying that because you really think so, Kathleen, or because you don't want to feel guilty?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Both.”

The kettle whistled. Sam took a blue-and-white pot holder out of a drawer and carefully wrapped it around the teakettle's handle, then poured the water into the cups. Steam rose up in puffs around his hand. He had boiled exactly the right amount of water for two cups. “I’ve got to admit I’m surprised.” He put the kettle back on the stove and the pot holder back in its drawer before turning to her again. “Just a few weeks ago, you told me you were going to marry Kevin and live off his fortune for the rest of your life.”

“I never said I was definitely going to do that-I just said it was an interesting possibility.”

“One that you seemed very invested in pursuing. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” She shifted, pressing the flat of her back against the counter. “I guess I just got bored.”

“What happened to the young woman with plans and forethought? The one who wasn't going to be like her mother and throw her life away on some loser? The budding philanthropist?”

“They got bored, too.”

“I see.” He dunked the two teabags, then got a clean mug out of the cupboard and deposited the used teabags inside. He put that mug in the sink. “Do you want milk or sugar?”

“Sugar. A lot.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer a tea-flavored cup of sugar?

“Are you offering?”

“Sit down, Kathleen.” She sat while he doctored the tea and then he joined her at the table and slid a cup and saucer across to her.

She picked up the cup and put it to her lips. “Fuck,” she said, dropping it down onto the saucer with a clatter. “It's really hot.” She put her fingers to her burned lip.

“Brilliant,” Sam said. “You watched me boil and pour the water with your own eyes, but you had to burn yourself to realize it was hot?”

“Whatever.”

“Try thinking before you do things, Kathleen. You'll get hurt a lot less.”

“But will I have as much fun?” And suddenly-crazily-she thought of leaning forward and kissing him. And immediately rejected the idea. Kiss Sam? Who was stern and disapproving and usually annoyed with her? The thought was both untenable and exciting-tempting the way the idea of setting off the fire alarm on a school corridor is tempting and not something you'd ever actually do.

Distracted by the thought, she took another sip of tea and immediately scorched her lips again, but this time suppressedthe curse that rose to her tongue, so Sam wouldn't know she had been stupid not once but twice.

Sam was stirring his tea slowly with a spoon. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something. Was it just to tell me about Kevin?”

She brought herself back to the conversation. “Sort of. It's connected. I wanted to let you know that I’m quitting my job. Since you helped me get it. It's not that I hate it or anything, but it's kind of not that exciting and-”

“And you've already used up and discarded the boss's son, so what's the point?”

“Shut up.”

He didn't. “Jackson has two more sons, you know. There's no reason to quit yet. They're married, of course, but I think you and I both know that marriages aren't necessarily permanent. You could even argue that the extra obstacle will make it a more exciting challenge, couldn't you?” She didn't answer, just glared at him, so he shrugged and went on, still stirring his tea. “Actually, I think you made a mistake going after Kevin in the first place, Kathleen. His brothers are bigger players than he'll ever be.”

“I didn't go after him. It wasn't like that.”

He stopped stirring and looked across the table at her, his eyes flat and unreadable. “Oh, please. You can tell anyone else that. But not me.”

She couldn't meet his look. “All right,” she said after a moment. “Maybe it was like that.” She poked, defeated, at the handle on her teacup.

He resumed his mocking tone. “So are you hoping I’ll find you another job? Because I’ll have to put some thought into it.” He placed the spoon carefully on the saucer, to the side of his teacup. “Do you care how handsome the son of the boss is at your next office? Or is it enough for him just to be roughly the right age? I can't promise Kevin-quality looks and broad shoulders every time, you know. Come to think of it, does it even have to be a son? Or could it be, say, a nephew? Or a daughter?”

“Sorry not to laugh,” Kathleen said, “but you're not actually being funny. I just thought you should know I was quitting, that's all. Since you got me the job. Which I am grateful for, whether you care or not.”

“You never took that job seriously.”

“Come on, Sam. I was pouring coffee and stapling papers most of the time. How seriously could anyone take that?”

“That's all you're qualified to do.” He took a careful sip of his tea and lowered the cup. “So what's the next job going to be?”

“I haven't decided yet. But I’m not going to rush into anything this time. I’m going to sit down and really think about what's right for me, how it's going to work out in the long run. Not just grab at the first thing that comes along.”

“You've really matured since I met you, Kathleen, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she said. She pushed her cup away. “I’m going to go watch TV.”

“Mine, I assume.”

“Well, I don't have one.”

“Can't you find somewhere else to watch?”

“Not without putting on shoes. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“All right,” he said. “But don't bother me. I have a lot of work to do.”